


Strictly Business

by moonblooch



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, give us the power couple we deserve!, just a tester to get this pairing out there, this might wind up being longer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 18:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17792489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonblooch/pseuds/moonblooch
Summary: The Gentleman enlists Ophelia Mardun to bring Marion to Zadash as a bargaining chip against the Mighty Nein. Things don't go quite as planned.





	Strictly Business

**Author's Note:**

> As ever I do not own any of the characters or concepts herein, please support actual Critical Role.

Ophelia Mardun stepped from her carriage into the blinding daylight of Nicodranas. She was far from pleased; the journey had consisted of a very particular kind of discomfort which she had not subjected herself to for years, and the guards at the border had cared too much about their jobs to make bribing them worthwhile. On top of it all the wretched warm wind that so many flocked to the Menagerie Coast for was already causing her hair to frizz.

It would have taken several blades to her throat for her to admit it, but she was already sweating in her carefully tailored coat.

Deciding to save herself a little dignity, she swept her hair into a bun at the base of her neck. Normally she reserved such a hairstyle for duelling, but in this instance she was willing to make an exception.

Besides, if the rumours were true, this could yet turn into a duel.

Ophelia had travelled so far south, away from her foothold in Shady Creek Run, at the request of the Gentleman. She had lost the precious time that this errand was taking in a card game. If she had had her way it would have been decided with blades, but apparently her friend did not make a habit of instigating fights in his own tavern. A coward’s excuse if she had ever heard one, and a damned lie if she had ever heard one, but she had been forced to send most of her men north to ensure that her house was still standing (and stayed that way) so she had bitten her tongue when he asked this favour of her.

And so she had hired hands and horses and headed south, cursing the Empire with every jolt of her rickety carriage.

She could have afforded a damn airship, but apparently for this particular errand it was better that she remained inconspicuous. As she alighted the steps to the Lavish Chateau, she could understand why.

A boy with a set of healing claw-marks across his face greeted her, but did not come out from behind the front desk.

“Uh, greetings ma’am. Are you here for a room?”

She smiled, her sweetest smile which she only used when trying to get something that she wanted.

“I fear not, my dear man.” She replied, attempting to pitch her voice to match the smile. “This is merely a social call on a dear old friend of mine. Is Marion in?”

The boy’s face turned the colour of curdled milk. Interesting. The Gentleman had told her to ask for Marion, but told her precious little about Marion herself. Only that she could find her here, at the Lavish Chateaux, proud home of the now infamous Ruby of the Sea.

It had hardly been difficult to join those particular dots; the Gentleman had always been a ladies man, if one was being polite, or a slut if one was not. Ophelia tended towards the latter, unless they were talking business with a third party. But the point remained that once it became apparent that this Marion was the Ruby, it became equally clear that the Gentleman was interested in her.

It certainly would have been a power-play against the Concord to take the Ruby; no doubt at least a few of its high ranking members were clients, but to destabilize the tenuous business ties his troupe had with them when the Empire was already at war was insanity. The way he had spoken of her suggested that he knew her at one point, perhaps he merely wished to re-establish contact in order to have somewhere to run to when Zadash fell to the dogs.

This was not something that Ophelia could concern herself with at present however; the boy in front of her was speaking.

“Look, ma’am, I don’t know why you’re here, but you need to leave.”

“That is such a shame.” She interrupted him, keeping her tone light whilst shifting her stance in a way that revealed the hilt of her rapier. “It really will be a flying visit; I just have a message to deliver from another friend of ours.”

“Ma’am.” He said again, apparently growing some balls in the few seconds he had had to consider his situation. Ophelia could not see either of his hands, so could only assume that at least one was currently attached to a weapon. “Ma’am the best I can do is ask, but she doesn’t normally take visitors during the day.”

A bell rung somewhere in the distance and Ophelia waited until she could hear the inevitable sound of footsteps before allowing herself to lean against the wall. Another boy appeared, exchanged some rushed whispers with the first boy, and disappeared again, sprinting along a corridor which led away from the doors to the main bar. Ophelia watched the first boy with a small smile on her face, relishing the way he squirmed under her gaze.

As the minutes ticked by she turned over question after question in her mind. What could the Gentleman want a route out of the Empire for? Zadash was central enough that it stood perhaps the best chance against a Cric invasion of anywhere, particularly since it did not offer the colossal tactical and symbolic advantages of Rexxentrum. She wondered if she should join him on this endeavour; it had been difficult enough to establish herself in the Run, and he would owe her a favour after this.

She was still considering the options when the doors to the bar swung open. The individual pushing them was a minotaur, easily three feet taller than Ophelia, including his horns. He glowered at her as she stepped forward.

“She will see you now. No funny business.”

“I would not dream of it.” She replied, giving him the same smile she had been wearing since she entered.

Beams of dust danced through the bar, illuminated by the light streaming through the cracks in the shutters. The evidence of the previous night’s revelry was still clear, glasses of all shapes and sizes scattered about the tables. Presiding over this washed up kingdom, poised at the top of a sweeping staircase which took up almost the entirety of one wall, was Marion. From this distance it was difficult to tell, but the tales of her beauty did not appear to have been exaggerated.

“You wanted to speak with me?” she asked Ophelia, beginning a slow descent of the stairs.

Ophelia nodded.

“Yes, I bring news from a mutual acquaintance of ours. A certain moist acquaintance.”

“I am afraid that does not narrow things down.” Marion had reached eye level by that point, and Ophelia could see that she was wearing a smile. “Most of the people who I become acquainted with end up moist; provided that I am doing my job well. You will have to be more specific.”

She looked at Ophelia through hooded eyes, a playful pout settled on her lips. She leant forward just enough to show off the plunging neckline of her dress which, upon closer inspection, was significantly more transparent than it had any right to be. Such a ploy might have worked on Ophelia on another occasion, but on that day her prerogative was simply business.

“Very well.” She replied, recalling the pseudonym that the gentleman had told her to give to Marion. “Marion, I have been sent on behalf of Babenon Dosal. He wishes to invite you to Zadash.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah. I have a lot of ideas for this but not a ton of brain juice right now so have the first part, and if you like this concept, let me know I might wright more. 
> 
> Happy valentines <3


End file.
